I can’t help but glare at the rest of his pack. Because Piers should never be surprised to be included. Fucking ever.
“Come here, baby,” Court says, voice a husky growl that makes my stomach flip for all the right reasons. And that makes me take a hesitant step back.
“Oh, I have to get the other-” I cut off when a bowl is pressed into my hands by Grieves, who then presses gently on my shoulder until I have the choice to sink down somewhat gracefully, or let my knees collapse under the pressure. I choose the first, obviously. Court doesn’t waste any time at all bundling me into his lap again, one of his legs on either side of mine, my back cradled in his chest, just like before.
“You’re hogging our omega,” Thayer grumps.
My mind swims.
Our omega.He said that, didn't he? I didn’t make it up?
Court doesn’t even pretend to be apologetic. His arms tighten around me, one forearm banded snugly across my waist,the other steadying the bowl in my hands. “She wandered into my lap all on her own.”
“That is a blatant lie,” I protest, but my voice comes out breathier than intended. Two words are circling in my head.Our omega. Our omega. Our omega.
Grieves huffs a laugh. “Doesn’t look like she’s trying very hard to escape.”
I absolutely could move. I’m aware of that. Fully capable of shifting, standing, retreating to a perfectly safe, neutral distance, like I’d determined to do not five minutes ago. But those words…
I stay where I am and I dig my spoon into the sundae, scooping up brownie and ice cream and peanut butter sauce in one dangerously perfect bite and shove the spoon into my mouth. A sound slips out of me before I can stop it—soft, embarrassed, entirely involuntary.
Court’s chest lifts behind me. “That good?”
I nod, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. “Not to toot my own horn or anything, but you don’t even understand how good.”
“Well now,” Thayer says dryly, “that’s one hell of an endorsement. Can I have a bite?”
I glance sideways at him. “You have your own bowl.”
His brows lift. “Do I? Yours looks better.”
“They are exactly the same.” I can’t stop the little grin from tugging at my lips as I roll my eyes and scoop up a bite, holding it out to him in offer. “Here, professor.”
Thayer’s eyes heat and he leans forward, blue eyes burning, lips parting, but before he can take what I’m offering, Grieves leans in from my other side, close enough that I can feel the heat of him, and steals it. “Mmm. Careful, Ren. You keep offering us things like that and we’re going to start getting ideas.”
“I think that ship has sailed,” Piers murmurs, amusement threading his voice.
My cheeks burn, but I don’t miss the way Court’s thumb idly traces the line of my hip, absentminded, as though it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to do. Forsythe watches from across the fort, expression unreadable, eyes dark in a way that makes my stomach flip.
I take another bite just to give my mouth something to do.
The fort feels… smaller somehow. Warmer. Heavy with sugar and laughter and the storm pounding outside, thunder rolling close enough that it vibrates through the floor.
Court dips his head, voice low near my ear. “You’re killing us, pixie.”
“I’m just serving dessert,” I say, weakly.
“Mm,” he hums, dragging his mouth over my bare shoulder. “Dangerous occupation.”
A little squeak of sound escapes me as the lights flicker and then go off all together. Court tugs me tighter to his body.
“You afraid of the dark, killer?” Thayer asks, sliding his big hand onto my ankle in a move that is far more soothing than I would have thought.
I shake my head, settling deeper between him and Court. “No, just startled me, is all.”
“‘Course she’s not scared,” Court murmurs, leaning over to nip at my ear. “Our girl is so brave.”
I shiver but cover it with a snort. “Sure, I’m very brave. That’s why I had a panic attack on national television.”
